ignorance, yet knowledge
by li'l fat necrosis
Summary: Soqe looked down at the tiny Twi'lek, giving her a small grin of appreciation. "Your former master was much too kind. I have seen many with much greater talent than I. It is an honour to be remembered so fondly by your master." "I wonder if my master would've ever assumed that you would be involved with someone who walks without light."


The man was strange.

That was the first thing she told herself as she stared at the Mirialan in question. He had such a cold stare that she hadn't thought was possible for someone to look so evil. How was it natural for this man to be a Jedi Consular to just... give off the vibe of being _completely evil?_ Was he perhaps going down a dark path and they were all just blind to it?

"I hope you treat me well." she said, a forced smile on her face now. "Master Yuon tells me much about your great legacy. Thank you for allowing..."

A thin, dark skinned man walked in behind them, his eyes blinded. Aishol'fiza couldn't remember the proper name for his race, but he looked so... _pleasant_ it didn't matter. He towered over the two of them, a large lightsaber attached to his hips. Was he a Jedi too?

"Oh, Issy, I didn't know you were busy," he frowned. "I will leave you be."

"Oh... Soqe." Isosei's tone was perhaps too surprised, turning around with a smile on his face, almost too wide compared to what it should be. He was mere seconds from reaching out to throw arms around his lover, hold him close and urge him back to their quarters to speak of his mission, but he caught himself quickly, glancing back toward the girl- Yuon's new apprentice- the smile faltering. Isosei's hands clenched into fists for a moment, before he attempted to bow slightly, greeting her cordially.

"Yuon must have seen great things in you to take you on. She's a very special woman- a true master. Nobody will be able to train you better than she shall." Isosei's lips pursed, before he was turning away from her, moving to sit down in one of the large chairs surrounding the table in his master's quarters yet again, his eyes trained on a photo still held on the wall. It was him, a much younger version of him, hardly seventeen, holding his first lightsaber between two hands as Yuon's arm rested around his shoulders.

It was... _happy_.

"I am uncertain of what Yuon has told you of me," the Mirialan said softly, his voice still stern, almost heavy with frustration. "Though I expect she treated my name more kindly than the council would. She has asked me supervise your training while she is away. If you have any questions, you're free to inquire." He glanced up briefly to the Miraluka, standing near the doorway now. "Soqe, would you... please return later? I... I have much to catch up on with you. I was hoping to talk." Isosei ran a hand through his dull grey hair, the sudden scars on his face seeming to burn as fingers brushed across them, bloodshot eyes glaring between the knight and Yuon's padawan, almost distant. His nails dug into his palm, rough, tearing the skin when he curled his fist tighter. "Please?"

 _Soqe._

Surprisingly, the Twi'lek knew that name well. Her previous master boasted so much about Soqe, his previous pupil that studied under his wing many years prior.

"It is a privilege to meet the both of you, Masters." she bowed, glancing between the two of them. "I hope I am able to learn much from you, Master Isosei. "

"Issy is a very good teacher, young Padawan." Soqe smiled, placing his hand on his lover's shoulders. "Very well, I will be seeing you later tonight."

"I apologize," Isosei responded, ducking his head, before leaning up to press a gentle, fleeting kiss against Soqe's cheek, his own green skin covered by a pale pink flush as he blushed, turning away. "Tonight... I will try and make up for our last mission."

His eyes settled on the Twi'lek again the moment the touch on his shoulders faded, gaze once again a firm glare, his hands trembling as he crossed arms over his chest, foot tapping against the ground for a moment. Then, with a rough gasp of breath, he shuddered. "I hope that we teach each other much in our time together, padawan. I can sense your uneasiness. Please, speak?"

Aishol'fiza shifted uneasily, pulling her tight robe around her slim build. "My apologies, Master, but... I thought Jedi were not permitted to have lovers?"

"It is discouraged, Padawan." Soqe admitted, looking away from his lover for only the fewest of moments to stare at the tiny Twi'lek. "I believe that love and romance can invoke very strong feelings that will help some wander down the light path."

It sounded so silly and naïve to admit to himself, but he truly did believe so. Isosei had acted so much better after he had fallen for him, and... kriff, he thought his petty rivalry with others had finally stopped when he was able to focus on the love of his life and no one else.

"Right, Master Soqe," she responded. It wasn't wise to speak against her master so early into her studies. Perhaps later she could inquire further about relationships when Master Yuon had gotten back. "Is there anything else I should know, Master Isosei? Or is that all?"

"Yes," the younger of the two masters replied, his lips held in a tight grimace, turning away from the girl and toward the wall, his hands strumming rhythm against the sides of his arms with his eyes shut and brow furrowed. Sinking teeth into his lip, Isosei only pulled himself out of the trance at the sharp tang of blood on his tongue, dripping down over his chin, sick.

"I'm certain you've heard of the rumors surrounding me in particular. I'm not as adherent to the code as most are- not as Soqe is. There is... so much that you are restricted from knowing at your age. When you grow older... flourish... you will understand. I assure you that I am not what the council will tell you I am... but I'm not a slave to their code either. I am... not light."

"If you are not light, then why do you chose the path of Jedi?" she stepped up, hesitant. The Twi'lek was unsure whether or not she felt nervous about being in the same room with someone who had just confessed to not truly being light. What had that truly meant? Was he... he someone that walked the fine line of dark and light?

Soqe stepped up, a thin frown that almost felt sad to look, placing a dark hand on his lover's shoulder, moving it up to caress his cheeks before pushing his hair away from his face. "Isosei- perhaps it is time to bring your new pupil out into the training yard now that you have your introductory out of the way?" What he wanted was to say was _don't allow her to believe the lies, allow her to see how skilled and wise you are, my love._ But he kept quiet if only because he hoped that their bond would speak though it.

"I wasn't prepared to have to spar today," she frowned, but didn't say further, eyeing the lightsaber on Isosei's hips. What colour would his be? Red, like all the dark path walkers she knew? Or blue, like a true Jedi. Perhaps even the non-popular colours like green, or magenta, or purple. Aishol'fize's master- previous master- had one that was an acidy yellow.

"I'm sure Master Isosei will go easy on you," he smiled, gently tugging on his shoulders once more. "Issy? If you're unsure if you're able to properly spar with her, I would gladly do so."

"You are right, Soqe..." Isosei whispered in response to the mental reinforcement surging through their bond, ducking his head briefly to brush tears from his eyes. He reassuringly squeezed Soqe's hand, before nodding to the young padawan, a melancholy expression on his face that was exaggerated as he quirked his lips up in a smile, nodding to her.

"Come, padawan. Gather your saber and meet me in the yard. It would be a good thing to assess your skills as well... that way I can see what Yuon has taught you and how I should proceed." The Mirialan's hand found his dual bladed saber, hefting it with a sad expression, before turning to walk out the door, nodding to Soqe. "Please direct her if she has any trouble. I believe she feels more comfortable around you."

* * *

Aishol'fiza followed the much taller Jedi towards the training guard where a multitude of other Padawans and Jedis were training. Training droids (they looked so much fancier than the ones back home) were set upsparingly around the front yard, one of them being where her master was standing, awkwardly scratching at his arms. It worried her too much to see him right now... would he... would be teach her to go into the light or obscure into the darkness?

"My former master praised you for your talent, Master Soqe."

Soqe looked down at the tiny Twi'lek, giving her a small grin of appreciation. "Your former master was much too kind. I have seen many with much greater talent than I. It is an honour to be remembered so fondly by your master."

She blushed, licking at her chapped lips. "I wonder if my master would've ever assumed that you would be with someone who walks without light."

And then he stopped, glancing down at her with a harsh glare. "Your words are no longer wanted now, Padawan. It would be wise if you stopped before you created an ill reputation of yourself with such hateful words."

"Of course, Master."

The gaze upon Soqe's face was unpleasant. It was elegant, as ever, regal despite the band around his eyes, but it seemed almost overtly fierce. That was enough to startle Isosei, enough for his gaze to drop to the ground, and to the lightsaber clutched tightly in his hand, broken nails scraping along the metal surface until an unpleasant melody filled his ears and he was pulling himself away, shaking.

He could feel pain in his eyes. They were nearly impossible to hold open, dry and bright with red, the sclera almost overwhelmed by the vessels covering it. He was shaking, gritting his teeth as Soqe reached out to him- and the girl stood in front of him, undoing the saber from her belt and letting it spark to life with a loud hiss.

Isosei felt nearly self conscious at seeing the bright blue of her weapon, unhitching his own saber, twirling it into hands as the ends lit up with an intense glow- a dark red on one side, a pale purple on the other.

"Stance, padawan. Ready yourself. Don't hold the weight in your shoulders- let the force flow through you, let it ground your feet."

"Yes, my Master," she nodded, readying her stance awkwardly. It was red. _Red._

This couldn't be real.

"You're not relaxed, Padawan," Soqe warned, grabbing her shoulder firmly to force her to push them down and then widen her stance. The girl got even more stiff at this, staring at him with a deep blush that could almost put Isosei's ever so popular one to shame. "There, that is much better. You are much too stiff for it to be natural. If a Flesh Raider had decided to attack, you would've turn yourself trying to attack them so improperly."

The green Twi'lek frowned. "My apologies, master. I wish to learn how to properly stand. Thank you." she turned to look at her temporary master. "Master, I am ready now."

"Please, do not look at me like that," Isosei murmured to her, his voice nearly hushed in the midst of the training grounds. He was hardly sure if Aishol'fiza could hear what he said- didn't think it would matter if she did. He gripped his own blade tighter, falling back into a defensive position, watching her with an open expression for a momebt, before shielding himself yet again, steadying his feet. "You may attack when you feel most comfortable. I am not going to demonstrate my own offensive- I am simply on the defensive as you show me what you have been taught. Go."

"Yes, master."

With that, she rushed forward, raising her saber to hit against her master's, surprised when he effortlessly blocked her with just the simple flick of his wrist. He looked so elegantly, his second saber being caught in the air, ready to block any other attacks she tried to hit at him. _How far am I allowed to show my talents? Would he be able to block them all?_ It worried her- _what if he defeated her just by blocking her?_

When Isosei clashed his lightsaber with his own, she nearly tripped backwards, suddenly aware how bad her stance was now. She was beginning to look like such a... no, she _felt_ like she was an amateur; no more a child than when she graduated from her previous master's watch. Aishol'fiza wondered just how out of her league she was.

"Your technique is sloppy. There's a hole in your stance on your left side- you need to work on that. Enemies would not be so lenient," Isosei breathed out, flicking his lightsaber again to catch the offhand attack she made. His hand held her in place for a few seconds, trying to urge her to stop moving. "Please. Stop."

Turning away from her, he sheathed his lightsaber again, quickly turning around again as he heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him. Glancing over the Twi'lek, he nodded to her, before moving to her side, a hand lingering at her waist before cautiously murmuring, "May I?"

Her nod was so slight he could hardly see it, but nonetheless brought her arms forward and up, helping them flare out at the elbows, before pressing a foot between her own to push them apart further, readjusting the angle of her head so she was facing slightly to the side. Isosei patted her back once, gently, urging energy through her muscles. "You're stiff... particularly at your waist. Try stepping into your attacks instead of leaning into them."

"I will gladly call over a trainer later on, Isosei," Soqe said, walking over towards the two of them, unsheathing his bright blue lightsaber. "The training droids will help prepare her better. Master Dentiri will teach her on how to properly hold her stance."

He used the tip of his unsheathed saber to hit her in the back, unamused when she half screamed, falling onto her knees with a horrified face. "You slouch, Padawan. You will need to learn to correct yourself before we continue."

"Y-yes, Master... Master Soqe. Thank you for your correction..." she gritted in pain, still holding the wound on her back. It hurt so much- why had he just... just hit her anyway? Simply reminding her that she needed to stop slouching would've made her shape up... It seemed like such cruelty that she was being physically punished for it.

"Good," he said, looking to his lover, nodding. "I believe that I could perhaps spar with her to help with her shaky form?"

"I believe she would take kinder to your sparring," Isosei replied, ducking his head in an almost ashamed fashion, refusing to meet the padawan's eyes. He nearly felt as though he were on the verge of collapsing, rage filling his bones and cracking him open from the inside, heartache splitting his head as tears seeped into his vision, his eyes only able to see smears in front of him, nearly blurs.

Isosei was nearly ready to launch himself at the girl, spit on her and curse her and burn her for her insolence, make her scream for the audacity of her judgement and the stereotypes she'd pinned on them both... nearly ready to turn away and throw himself into Soqe's arms, sob against the warmth of his skin and the sturdiness of his muscles, run hands along his back and pull him into a solid embrace that couldn't be broken.

He shook himself from the state of disarray, a near hiss parting from his throat as he refused to even spare her a second glance, body trained solely on nothing but himself, his own breathing and the force that ran through his veins. He nodded to Soqe, swallowing his uncertainties, the tears in his eyes all but soaking his face now, his hand not faltering as his lightsaber found the training droid, struck it, again and again and again, until he tossed the blade onto the ground, not sparing it a glance as he turned back toward the temple, pushing past them and running until he couldn't feel the sense of their presence or hear the ring of their voices.

Isosei was leaning against a wall, briefly, hand shaking against the rough metal of it and the cold, callous surface, before he was dropping to his knees, unable to prevent the curses from echoing.

The lightsaber was still in his hand, he saw. He didn't drop it... and the footsteps were still there, real, and he wasn't even sure if he was completely real, just that he was on the ground next to a mess of metal- not a droid, something else- and shaking.

"I-I apologize for my loss of rationality... it won't happen again, master."

"I believe it would be best if you went back to your room, Aishol'fiza," he said, dropping down to his knees to hold the sobbing Jedi Consular. "You are dismissed..."

The Twi'lek hesitated, biting down on her lips to look over her fallen master. Was he mentally ill? It was... was disconcerting to see someone so highly praised by Master Yuon to look so insane. She had been very happy to pass her off to her to them when she had needed to leave, but she couldn't believe that this was truly the best thing for her. She was the best pupil in her previous field! She deserved so much better.

"Would you like me to get one of the Healers, Master?"

Soqe glared at her, only pulling the clinging Mirialan, hiding his face in his tunic. "Leave."

Once she did, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a displeased stare, he kissed the top of his lover's lips. "There, there, my love. Please do not worry, I'm here. She has left- please talk to me."

He was clinging to the older Jedi, fingers curled into his robes and tugging him close, so near to breaking down once more in his arms. Isosei's cheeks were lines with tears, reddened, eyes rimmed with dark lines that shouldn't have been there as he sucked in a harsh breath and shuddered against his lover, desperate. All he could seem to feel was pain, everywhere, filling him up... made him want to scream and curse until his voice no longer served him.

"I cannot train a padawan," he confessed to Soqe, lowering his head. "Master Yuon wished me to teach her fairness, and acceptance. But the task is more difficult for me than it is for her- too often have I been judged for the color of my blade and the betrayal of my master. Now I wish that I could..." he gasped. "Be free of this." He gripped Soqe tighter, closer, tears once more soaking them both as the Mirialan pressed his head against his friend's shoulder. "Please."

Soqe brushed back pieces of grey-white hair from his lover's face, trying to further cradle him. "I know, Issy," he pressed another weak kiss to his lover's lips, using a slim thumb to wipe away his tears. "It will all be okay, my love. She will learn to accept others- she is young, as much as I was when I had first met you. She will not... not always be as intolerant as the others the more she spends time around you."

There was a pale smile on his face, looking around the training yard. Numerous people were staring at them, curiosity and confusion so painfully written on their faces. He wished that the sight of seeing two Jedi embracing wasn't so uncommon, it hurt so much to just be seen as an outlandish thing...

"Please, stand up, my love, let us go back to our quarters so I may properly comfort you."

Pulling himself out of it was more a struggle than the collapse had been, his muscles weak and aching, breathless, emotions seeping into the force and polluting the bond between him and Soqe. His hands desperately sought perch against the metal of the wall, until he managed to hold himself on his feet, weakly stumbling along with little support for his body. His free hand was clutching his lightsaber now, attempting to hold onto it dearly, as though his life depended on it.

He wasn't certain on what he was doing, hardly noticed the arm slung around his waist until he was leaning against Soqe's shoulder, holding tightly to his slim form as he moved forward just enough to reach the door of their room, fingers clenching around the handle to pull it shut. Gasping, he nearly fell forward when he got through the doorway, hand against the inside table as the only support. "I'm terribly... terribly sorry, Soqe."

"It is no bother to me, my love," he whispered, stroking his hair back and kissing more of his dark face that was slowly becoming more pallid as he pulled him closer. "You are my passion... and I will always hold you close."

He slowly tugged his lover towards the bed, letting him drop down on the bed. "You are safe, my love, you are only here with me."

"I know, my love, my dear Soqe... I know that you have me. You... you do not spit on me or call me Sith..." he gasped, roughly, hand moving to cover his face, before rolling onto one side, refusing to look at Soqe. "I... I need you to inform my padawan... I want to make this work, and train her well. But I cannot do so if she is so unnerved by me. Soqe, please..." he half coughed, breathless, curling against the knight's body with need. "I am yours... I will never stop serving the Jedi as long as I am yours. I am not my master..."

He grabbed his lover's face, stroking it gently. "I will, my love. I will tell her everything she needs to know. I promise. She will not look at you with such distaste as the rest do." he kissed him fully on his lips, practically melting into the embrace. Soqe's hands gripped his lover's, so happy when he felt Isosei pulling him closer until they were once again holding each other. "My love, I will make her look up to you just as I do with you. She will see someone capable, a true Master that she will learn to grovel in front of."

"Once, that would've made me smile at the thought... now it only makes me feel as though I am even less than the Council considers me." Isosei looked up to Soqe, eyes almost wide with uncertainty as his long fingers traced over the outline of his blindfold, pressing a chaste kiss to dark lips. Here, tangled into an intricate embrace with his lover, he felt whole again... here, he could forget about his red lightsaber, once green, and all the innocent lives it had taken. He could forget about the confrontations for power and his need for it...

"You understand that I will never be your equal, Soqe," he whispered, softly, stroking the Miraluka's cheek. "I will never be so precious to the Jedi. They see me, and they see the man who trained me, my red blade, the lives I sacrificed to save so few... I am a true failure to them. And to Aishol'fiza as well." He laughed, hollowly, turning away. "Please, tell her I request her presence when you can."

"You will always be considered as my equal, Isosei," he whispered in return, grabbing at his neck, using the back of his hand to caress his neck and kiss at his lips. "You are as strong as I am, powerful in every way... I will never allow anyone to debate me on this as if you were not. You are a Jedi Consular, whether they like it or not."

His voice was rising almost too much for him to care, sitting up to look at his lover, staring at every little scar and path of dark green skin. "You are the love of my life, Isosei- if those bantha fodders wish to call you such untrue names, then..." Soqe ran a hand through his green hair, swallowing the anger and hatred in his throat. _There is no emotion, there is peace._

"I-I will go retrieve her, Isosei. I apologize for my outburst."

"You are too good for me," the younger of the two responded, his face relaxing, evening out into a look that seemed nearly content as he let a hand move up to caress Soqe's cheek gently, pulling him closer with arms tight around his back, a sharp sigh. "My love, you are so good to me... I am honored that you wish me to be yours, your equal, your partner." He glanced toward the door. "Aishol'fiza, you do not have to be scared if you have a question. Knock on the door."

Aishol'fiza hesitated, frowning to herself before she was pulling the door open after knocking quietly. "My apologies, Master. I was just wondering...?"

"You were wondering...?" Isosei asked, trailing off, a knowing smile on his face as he leaned back against the headboard, attempting to put his body more at ease. His muscles were still stiff, even twitchy, and the gentle arm around his back was doing little to ease it. "Speak, young one." The smile was encouraging, if not off-putting with his red rimmed eyes and black streaked cheeks.

The fact that they were in bed together was off putting, still in an intimate embrace... it worried her too much; this wasn't supposed to be right. She could remember getting in trouble for confessing to her friend that she had a crush on another pupil... so why were her masters allowed to sleep and lay in the same room?

"N-nevermind, my master," she swallowed, bowing her head in shame. "I was wondering if I was allowed off temple grounds? I wish to train alone?"

"Aishol'fiza, you are much too young for me to simply allow to go alone," Isosei said nervously, his fingers toying with the metal cuff still bound to his wrist. "The council would have my head if you went. Please, find another padawan- do you have any friends who can accompany you?" He paused, shaking his head roughly. "Or you can take Master Soqe. I think... I think it would be good of you to talk."

"I have not been here long enough to make friends, Master," she admitted. Glancing at Master Soqe, she still decide whether or not she truly wanted someone like him to accompany her while she trained. He was an attractive sight, for sure, but... he was so noisy and crass, willing to harm her just for a slight infraction. How much more intense would he be if he was out of the other's eyes? Was she really given much of a choice. "T-"

"I believe that is a wonderful idea, Master Isosei," the dark skinned man said, looking upwards at her with an arrogant grin. "Perhaps some enemies would help you train better."

"Soqe, please. Be gentle on her- she is young." The green skinned master sighed, turning his head away from them both as he stood to his feet, giving Aishol'fiza a once over, nodding brusquely to her as he reached out to pat her arms. Isosei didn't ignore the manner in which she nearly flinched away. "Aishol'fiza," he said to her, a bit more roughly, though his voice was still barely more than a soft, airy pitch. "Did Master Yuon tell you why she assigned me as your master?"

The Twi'lek shook her head, stepping away from her master. "No, Master. I was not informed as to why you were assigned to me. May I inquire why?"

"Master Yuon was concerned about your adherence to the Code. You were assigned to me because she wants to promote tolerance. To be a Jedi is about more than following a code. It is about flexibility, understanding both your allies and your enemies, and growing so that you can work with and help people that you would not normally acquaint yourself with. The code speaks to many volumes- that there is no passion, no attachment... but you must realize it is not so clear cut for every being. Many of us follow alternatives and make use of intimacy so that we can grow as beings of this world. Does that make sense?"

His eyes met Soqe's, glinting almost playfully, a spark of life finally coloring them after so long, tears dried on his tattooed cheeks. Isosei turned around, away from her, looking up to a picture beside his table, fondly.

"My first master abandoned the Jedi because of their rigidness. He chose to instead walk the path of a Sith, and in doing so, tried to end my life. I was angry. Agonized... alone. Yuon took me in, but I was too emotional for her to fix. She taught me by the ways of the alternative code, so that I would not part from the Jedi. But my emotions were still too much- I killed a few innocents to save many more, and I disposed of an ally in favor of saving Yuon's life. Soqe was the only Jedi who stood by me and told them that I was not... evil." Isosei flinched, reaching out for his lover's hand, clutching to him desperately as he held it.

"I was sent to the Outer Rim to try and fix my mistakes, and though I returned changed, the council disapproved of my attachment with Soqe and the grievances my legacy wrought. They gifted me a red lightsaber- _red_ \- to show the other Jedi what I was capable of. Now my name is spoken with mistrust and disrespect."

The Mirialan wrapped his arms around himself. Glancing back to the Twi'lek girl. "This is why you are my padawan. So that you learn not to judge someone by their appearance or their name, but so that you may judge them through compassion as you form your own opinions and ideals."

She shifted uncomfortably, scratching at her arms. How was she supposed to react to hearing something like this, she wondered? It wasn't normal to hear something like that. Of course, she had heard of things about certain mentors breaking off to become Sith or corrupting apprentices into becoming Sith. Was... was he one of the pupils? It scared her to think her new mentor was possibly influenced by Sith.

"I'm sorry you had to experience that, Master Isosei," she said, bowing her head in shame. "I-I understand, Master."

"Now, Aishol'fiza," Soqe stood up, snapping his fingers before looking towards his lover and then back at the tiny girl. "I believe it is best for us to leave Master Isosei alone now so that he can rest."

Before walking towards her, he grabbed his lover's shoulders, kissing Isosei's cheek to whisper, "Please, rest or meditate, my love. When I return..." the rest went unsaid.

The end of Soqe's phrase echoed through Isosei's ears for a few seconds, his skin tingling and heart practically springing to life at the sound, nodding quickly with an attempt at an emphatic smile. Quickly, he wrapped his arms around Soqe, if only for a few moments, satisfied by the warmth of his skin, before he was pulling away, moving to stare out the window behind them, not sparing another look to the padawan. "Take care of each other," the Mirialan whispered. "I am eager to hear about your training."


End file.
